


A Dance and a Dare

by the-bi-writer (ineedapenname)



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, MJ doesn't know his secret yet, Nervous Peter, Prom, Really just fluff, School Dances, Shuri & MJ friendship, Shuri is a minor character, Spideychelle, and awkward cuteness, and the bribes may involve bacon, and then she dares MJ to ask Peter to prom, pre-relationship Spideychelle, she and MJ video chat and talk about their crushes, snarky MJ, there also may be bribes involved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-07 23:06:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15918111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineedapenname/pseuds/the-bi-writer
Summary: It starts with 9 words: “I dare you to ask Peter Parker to prom.”





	A Dance and a Dare

**Author's Note:**

> My first Spideychelle fic! I blame Classic-Vision for giving me tickets to this ship. Check out the art [here](https://the-bi-writer.tumblr.com/post/177819442175/a-dance-and-a-dare-a-spideychelle-prom-fic-it).

It starts with 9 words: “I dare you to ask Peter Parker to prom.”

Shuri and Michelle are video chatting, a regular occurrence since they met three months ago through Wakanda’s technological outreach program. Both girls are bright and inquisitive, and they connected right away. Shuri of Wakanda is now one of the few people that Michelle Jones considers a friend.

“Uggggggh,” Michelle groans. “Why did I even tell you about Peter? It’s just a stupid little crush.”  

“Teenage boys are stupid,” Shuri agrees seriously. “But having a crush isn’t. Besides, if he says yes, you get to dress up and dance til you drop.”

Michelle glares. “I don’t dance. And I hate dresses.”

Shuri rolls her eyes. “Okay _fine,_ killjoy. How about this? If you ask Peter to prom - and it has to be sincere - I’ll have bacon-topped pizza delivered to your house every day for a month.”

MJ beams at that, because even bacon is worth braving a social event for. “Deal.”

*

It takes Michelle a week to figure out how to ask Peter to prom.

She thinks about daring him to go; she thinks about bribing him with food (hey, it worked on her.) She thinks about enlisting Ned to help, but she’s fairly certain Ned can’t keep a secret to save his life. She even considers trying to intimidate Peter - which is an amusing pastime - but she quickly dismisses it. Even if she can barely admit it to herself, she does _like_ Peter, after all, and she doesn’t want him to come to harm. ( _And maybe,_ a small voice whispers in the back of her mind, _maybe you want to be nice to him, because you want him to like you back.)_

Finally, after six days of fruitless brainstorming, Michelle decides to go with blunt honesty. She stays after school one day and makes a sign that spells it all out.

The next morning, when Peter gets off the bus, yawning, he’s met by the sight of Michelle, holding a big colorful sign with _glitter_ on it, reading, “I hate everyone except you. Will you go to prom with me?”

Peter eyes her for a full minute, trying to figure out if this is a joke. “Are - are you actually asking me to prom?” he says.

“Shuri said she’d buy me bacon if I asked,” Michelle blurts out.

Peter’s face falls, like that’s exactly what he was expecting - a prank or a joke at his expense. Michelle can’t stand to see that look of hurt on his face, so she adds hurriedly, “Sorry, forget I said that. Yes, Peter Parker, I’m asking you to prom.”

Peter blinks, probably deciding whether or not he’s hallucinating this whole situation. Then finally, he rubs the back of his neck with one hand and says, “Yeah. Sure. Why not?”

To Michelle’s surprise, she wants to smile like a giddy kid at those simple words. She fights down her silly grin though, and says, “Cool. I think we’ll have a not-awful time.”

This time Peter grins right back, and MJ has the unnerving sensation that he understands all the things she’s not saying. That he understands exactly how giddy she is beneath her cool exterior.

Peter says with a grin as wide as the sky, “I think we’ll have a not-awful time too.”

* * *

“Okay I did it. I asked him,” MJ tells Shuri over video that night. “You owe me bacon pizza. And I have a dare for you too.”

“Oh?” Shuri says, eyebrows raised. She puts down the gadget she’d been working on. “I’m always up for a challenge.”

“This cute girl R’isha you’re always talking about,” MJ says with a sly smirk. “You like her, right? I can always hear it in your voice.”

“I do not!” Shuri says, but her voice goes high at the end, and it’s a dead giveaway. Michelle stares, deadpan, until Shuri gives in.

“Okay fine,” Shuri sighs. “You’re right, I like her. I 'accidentally' run into her in the market sometimes, and we chat for a few minutes, but I'm running out of excuses to see her. I thought about inviting her over, but bringing her to the palace feels too formal for a first date." Shuri groans, head in hands. "What do I do?" 

“Why don’t you invite her to your lab instead?” Michelle suggests. “You can show her the stuff you’re passionate about, and dazzle her with that big brain of yours.”

Shuri opens her mouth, shuts it again. “I’m the smartest person alive, and I never even thought of that.”

MJ grins. “See? I’m a super genius, too, and this is proof.”

“Or it’s proof that pretty girls make my brain short out,” Shuri says with a grin. “Okay, okay. I’ll invite R’isha to the lab… _if_ you promise to send me embarrassing prom photos after the dance.”

MJ groans, but says, “Yeah yeah I will. Now go get your girl.”

* * *

The rest of the school week flies by, and soon it’s Saturday - aka prom day. Michelle is strangely nervous as she slips into her new silver dress and lets her mom fuss over her hair and makeup.

Then the doorbell is ringing, and Peter Parker is walking into her house…in a tux. His hair is slicked back and he’s holding a white flower corsage, and he looks, well, handsome. Which is _not_ a word that Michelle ever thought she’d associate with boys her age. Especially not Peter Parker. But here he is, politely greeting her parents, and then beaming at Michelle.

“You look, um, really pretty,” Peter says.

The way Peter’s looking at her brings butterflies to MJ’s stomach, but she resolutely ignores them. She schools her expression, raises a cool eyebrow and says, “You don’t look half bad yourself.”

Peter grins, broad and real, and Michelle has that unnerving _sense_ again, that he sees straight through her bullshit. That he knows how giddy and nervous and excited she is underneath the layers of sarcasm she wears like a winter coat.

Peter holds out the corsage he brought - a single white flower, tied with elegant silver ribbon - and Michelle savors the brush of his fingers on her skin as he slips it over her wrist.

“There,” Peter says, adjusting the corsage but meeting her eyes. “Beautiful.”

MJ breaks his gaze and finds the boutineer she bought him - white with silver ribbons, just like he’d gotten her. She pins it to his lapel, managing to poke both of them in the process with the long silver pin.

“Sorry for the stabbing,” MJ says with a grimace.

“Eh, it’s fine,” Peter says off hand. “I’ve been stabbed in worse circumstances.”

MJ looks up sharply, wondering what the hell _that_ means, and Peter’s eyes widen too, like he’s said something he shouldn’t. Peter coughs quickly and says, “Sorry. What I _meant_ to say was thanks for the flowers.”

MJ studies Peter for a long moment, trying to suss out what he’s hiding. Then she decides to let it drop. MJ holds out her arm and says fondly, “Let’s go weirdo. We got memories to make!”

*

The prom, it turns out, is every bit as embarrassing as Michelle had pictured…but also more fun than she had expected. Yes, there are the obligatory couples pictures in front of the _worst backdrop ever - seriously, who decorates these things?_ \- and there’s an unfortunate amount of forced small talk at the beginning.

Then the music gets properly underway, and their table empties out as everyone gets up to head for the dance floor. Soon Michelle and Peter are the only ones left, sitting side by side a little awkwardly.

Peter stands, waggles his eyebrows comically and holds out his hand. In spite of herself, MJ takes it, and lets him lead her to the dance floor. Ned is there, along with half their decathlon team, and they make room for MJ and Peter.

At first, MJ stands as stiff as a board as Peter dances around her, being ridiculous, trying to get her to join in. When that doesn’t work, Peter cups his hands and shouts, “Look at these nerds, MJ! You’ll look like a freaking ballerina next to them!”

MJ surveys the people dancing all around her, and realizes that Peter has a point. So, for the first time in a long time, she forgets about her carefully cultivated image, and she lets go. She lets herself move to the music; she lets herself smile at Peter’s terrible dance moves; she lets herself laugh out loud when Ned tries to do the worm. And before she knows it, she’s having _fun._

Michelle’s lost track of time when a slow song comes on. Her immediate instinct is to beeline for the punch table, but before she can, a warm hand slips into hers, and she turns to see Peter.

“Dance with me?” Peter says, and there it is again. That open, sincere gaze. Those puppy dog eyes that Michelle just can’t say no to.

“Ugh, fine,” Michelle says, but she says it with a grin. She lets Peter pull her closer, and after an awkward moment of figuring out who’s hands go where, they settle into a slow rhythm, swaying back and forth to the music.

This close, Michelle can smell Peter’s cologne - _thank god he doesn’t use Axe body spray,_ she thinks - and she can smell mint and fruit punch on his breath. It’s... kind of nice, actually.

“So,” Peter says with an easy smile. “Are you having a not-terrible time?”

MJ grins. The smile comes easy now, and she lets it. “I’m having a not-terrible time indeed.”

*

After the dance, Peter, Ned, and MJ walk to a nearby playground and talk about everything and nothing for awhile. They still have time before curfew, so they climb the top of the wooden play structure and lay down, the three of them side by side, looking out at the stars - or out at what _would_ be stars, if they weren’t in New York.

Still, it’s nice to share a quiet moment with them. Michelle is comforted to know that even though there was a definite spark between her and Peter tonight, they can still chill with Ned on a gross old playground, and make terrible puns, and talk about nothing in particular. Because as curious as MJ is about the new direction that her and Peter’s relationship might take, she needs this too. Friendship. Companionship. Shared solace.

And she’s so, so grateful that she’s found it in Peter.

*

At the end of the night, Peter walks MJ to her door. He still has no real idea what possessed her to ask him to _prom,_ of all places, but he’s so, so glad that she did.

Michelle lingers on the front porch, playing with the keys in her hand, not yet moving to open the door. She’s as impossible to read as ever, but Peter decides to take the same risk for her that she took for him: one moment of raw honesty.

“I like you," Peter says, "And I’d like to do this again. Well, not _this_ -” Peter gestures at their fancy clothes, “but, you know, spending time together. Can I - can we -" Peter stops to get himself together, then just spits it out. "Can I take you out again? Next Saturday, maybe?”

MJ eyes him with that unreadable stare. Then she says with a tiny little smile, meant just for him, “Yeah. Sure. Why not?”

* * *

_Epilogue:_

“Ugh, _please_ stop sending me bacon pizza,” MJ moans to the video screen. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but there _is_ such a thing as too much bacon. And having it with pizza every day for two weeks is _too much.”_

Shuri laughs. “Well, you held up your end of the bargain, so I held up mine.”

MJ perks up at this. “How’d it go with R’isha by the way? Did she like your lab?”

Shuri smirks. “She did. She, ah, liked my bedroom too.”

“SHURI!” Michelle yelps, suddenly sitting up straight. “I’m gonna need details like, now. What happened? Who started it? Was it amazing???”

Shuri just leans back in her chair with a self-satisfied grin. “Let’s just say that I’m glad we made this bet, because it turned out pretty great for me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Halp. I've fallen down the Spideychelle hole and can't get up. 
> 
> This is my first time writing these two, so comments are welcome (but be gentle please).


End file.
